


As the World Falls Down

by MizzAdamz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dancing, Drabble, F/M, Fancy Dress, Fluff, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Puppets, Romantic Fluff, Severus Snape Lives, Severus is a hopless romantic, can you catch the references?, pretty costumes, prompt, shameless quoting of 80's films
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizzAdamz/pseuds/MizzAdamz
Summary: Hermione is a good friend and gave her ticket for the Fancy Dress Fundraiser Ball to Ron so he can bring his date.She planned to spend the night alone watching a favourite movie when something appears at her door.A silly little bit of fluff inspired from a prompt in the Hearts and Cauldrons Discord Server.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 26
Kudos: 150
Collections: Hearts and Cauldrons - Daily Prompts!, Hearts and Cauldrons Discord Members





	As the World Falls Down

The box innocently sat open on her bed; she had tested it for every curse and compulsion spell in the books and a few that weren’t in any book.

It was free of any charms other than the standard non-wrinkling and stain repellent variety that were usually woven into well made gowns.

The envelope that had been on top of the box was opened and a ticket to the event of the season was in it and nothing else.

The Fancy Dress Fundraiser Ball had been sold out months ago, held by an older Pureblood family who wanted to clear their names through charity works and socialising.

Hermione had wanted to go, had been given tickets along with Ron and Harry, but as she and Ron had finally admitted they just didn’t suit she had given her ticket to him so he could use the ball to woo his new paramour.

She had resigned herself to experiencing the glitz and glamour through the pages of the social papers, and planned to spend the night at home indulging in her favourite movie, a tub of ice cream and some very nice wine.

Just as she was getting ready to leave her flat and go obtain the required pity party supplies the buzzer rang and this box appeared, derailing her plans..

The dress was white and silver taffeta, an iridescent overlay gave the dress an absolute fantastical feeling. It wasn’t until she levitated the dress fully out of the box did she realise that it was a replica of the dress from her favourite film. The one from the scene where the antagonist is trying to woo the heroine into forgetting her quest and staying with him.

Hermione had always loved that scene, she often hummed the tune of the song they danced to when she was concentrating. Harry and Ron used to bug her about it all the time in class. It had annoyed a few of her teachers and co-workers as well.

She couldn’t help it, the tune was a part of her psyche, it helped her brain work.

So had Ron or Harry decided that she needed to go to the Ball anyway, gotten an extra ticket and sent her a dress?

This was too clever for Ron, and too expensive. Harry would think of something like this, but he was so busy with the three children she didn’t think he would have the energy to do it.  
It was a wonderful idea, and maybe the both of them worked together to do this for her. Or maybe it had been Ginny’s idea?

Ginny had slapped her brother when he asked for Hermione’s ticket, and Hermione had tried to diffuse the situation by claiming it just meant that she could spend the night with the first love of her life.  
Then there had been much teasing at the restaurant asking for details and claiming her first love was books not a person; until she admitted to the long standing crush on the antagonist of her favourite movie, and then proceeded to tell them all about the story.

That had started a long conversation about planning movie nights and working around the Potter family’s sleep schedule. They had settled on a must see list and were set to schedule a gathering after the Fancy Dress Ball.

She stared at the dress thoughtfully as it floated in the air above her bed. The boys must have done this for her, but something didn’t fit. How did they know to send this particular dress? They hadn’t seen the movie.

Something moved inside the box and she jumped in alarm, dropping the dress and whipping her wand out. Hermione was ready to hex what ever popped out from under the fabric.

At length, Hermione felt foolish, standing with her wand pointed at a motionless box. With a whispered Wingardium Leviosa, she lifted the dress up, floating it over to hang in front of her wardrobe.

In the box was something similar to a snitch, but silver and it was fluttering in an organza bag.

She lifted the bag and noticed the note card tied to the drawstring.

“Madam Malkins is proud to collaborate with Weasley Wizarding Wheezes to create an eight hour glamour and beauty charm to match the outfit of your choosing.  
To activate the magic, open the bag and let our patented Silver Swathe fly around to place the chosen glamour on yourself. There are 3 uses in each Silver Swathe to recreate your personal fantastical glamour.  
To renew the Silver Swathe’s charm, return to Madam Malkins with this card to receive a 15% discount.”

On the back in tiny print was this text; “WWW is not responsible for any cases of mistaken identity when using this charm.”

The box hadn’t given up all of its treasures. Still waiting for her were a pair of shoes with a slight heel, nothing too daring, and a white and silver domino mask that had a slight sticking charm on the back.

Hermione was stunned. This must have cost a fortune. Harry and Ron really shouldn’t have done this, but she understood now how they managed to procure a dress which was so spot on. In Madam Malkin Hermione had found a kindred spirit and together they’d waxed poetic about the ballroom scene, on more than one occasion. It was surprising how many witches knew of the film and shared a secret fondness for its seductive antagonist.

Hermione checked the clock on her beside table and calculated that she had just enough time to shower and dress herself before the portkey on the ticket activated. Knowing that Madam Malkin had played Fairy Godmother to this evening, Hermione decided that there was no harm in accepting the outfit from her friends. She had, after all, already done a large favour for Ron, and she would repay Harry later. 

She jumped into her shower, humming that beloved tune.

* * *

Hermione barely recognised herself once the Swathe had finished casting its spell on her, settling down into the organza bag with a satisfied chirp.

In the mirror, a shorter and more mature version of the heroine from her film looked back at her, nearly perfect in every detail. The eyes that reflected back her own wonder were changed from her natural brown to the mysterious hazel green eyes.   
Hermione twirled around in the elaborate dress and giggled in girlish delight. Her nine year old self was living her dream, looking every inch the enchanting beauty ready to dance with a mysterious and powerful ruler of a mystical land.

She put on her mask and sheathed her wand up into her sleeve, grabbing the ticket just in time for it to whisk her away to the Fancy Dress ball.

* * *

The ballroom was filled with people dressed in various styles of Fancy Dress. Some wore masks, others didn’t, but it was the air of mystery and joviality in the air that captured Hermione’s imagination.

No one had recognised her yet, and though she had seen Ron dressed in lurid purple robes and a false beard whispering into the ear of the stylised water nymph she hadn’t approached him. She didn’t want to ruin his date by being that ex who came looking for attention.

It seemed to her that Harry and Ginny hadn’t yet arrived, or if they had they were as well disguised as she was. WWW had really outdone themselves with this glamour, it even covered her curse scars, and she suspected it would mask Harry’s as well.

She contented herself by moving through the crowd at the edge of the dance floor, watching the people move to the music and gossip in corners.

The people not out on the dance floor were crowded together making it difficult to move freely, and she brushed up against a stranger who laughed at her attempts to apologise, and in turn offered to show her something unique. 

Dressed in an elegant Rococo style wig and suit, the stranger held out an ornate blue velvet lined box and she looked in, only to have the top of a bird headed puppet pop out and touch her nose.

“Pretty kisses from a pretty lady?” the puppet squawked.

Hermione jumped back, laughed and said “I only kiss people with lips.”

“That is a shame lady, as I could be a prince in disguise.” The bird waggled in its box.

“I’ve met a disguised prince before.” Hermione chided “He’ll get a kiss before you my dear. I don’t fancy splinters.” She patted the puppet on the head, returned her attention to the puppet's master and smiled “That is very amusing, thank you for the laugh, I shan’t take anymore of your time.” She walked away, not noticing a set of mismatched eyes following her procession.  
  


* * *

  
Hermione continued to scan the crowd, hoping to spot Harry and Ginny so she might thank them for the dress and the ticket. As diverting it was to flirt with puppets, it would be nice to have friends at her side.

Like an apparition, a man stepped out of the crowd and caught her eye. He was oddly familiar, dressed in a high necked jacket fashioned of midnight blue silk, adorned with crystals and gems that sparkled with the soft light of a starlit sky. 

When she took in the man’s spiky blonde hair with shocks of blue and pink, she knew. It was Him.

His trousers were exquisitely tailored in soft dove grey that clung to very shapely calves and… Hermione blushed, stopping that thought before her eyes went any higher. 

This stranger was dressed as the mysterious King from her film, the companion side of her costume. But who was he, what was he playing at?

He met her gaze and stepped closer with purpose, Hermione’s breath caught as he flowed with preternatural grace, parting the crowd with his presence.

Without preamble, he pulled her into his arms and smoothly guided them both onto the dance floor.

He didn’t say a word as he waltzed with her into the middle of the floor. Catching her gaze, he tilted his head and with a quirk of his lips, and the music changed. 

A flute started to play a familiar tune and he tucked her closer to his body.

“Well Sarah, how do you like my little display?” That voice -- she almost recognised it.

“I didn’t have to lose my baby brother to find you.” she pointed out, playing along.

“Your brother is safe at home with his wife.”

Confused, she said, “I’m an only child.” 

“Is Harry not like a brother to you?” the mystery man in the glamour asked her.

“Harry set this up?”

“No Sarah, I did. Harry only gave me his tickets. He would much rather take advantage of the empty house to sleep. A likely story.” She almost recognised his voice, it was just beyond her reach. There was something about his tone when he commented on Harry sleeping the evening away. It echoed in her memory.

“Why do this?” she demanded, frustration at her inability to recognise a voice. As they turned around the room, she was sheltered and guided by his strong arms, soothing a little of her annoyance.

He was taller than her, and she suspected he was also taller than the actor who played his character, his voice was as rich and deep as the actor’s but had a different accent, more Northern. At this proximity, she could smell lilac and white musk, but she could also detect something more familiar, perhaps old parchment.

“Because Sarah, I would turn the world upside down for you.”

“My name isn’t Sarah.” She was confused and beginning to truly worry. Who was this man who was rearranging her life to spend time with her?

“I know that, fool heart.” He held her firmly by the waist and hand as they danced. When the song ended he refused to let her go.

“You’ve given up much for your friend’s happiness; you gave up your parents, you fought for the rights of those who didn’t deserve it. You have gone through countless sleepless nights fighting for the rights of the under represented and made our world a better place. You deserve to have someone to hold you even if the world falls down.  
I had thought for a long time that you would find the love you deserved with your friends; that they would see you for the beauty you are. After years of watching I’ve decided that it is time for me to step up, as they never did.  
You may think I’m a stranger, and in some respects I am, but we can choose a path to walk between the stars.”

“Who are you?” she asked, a little breathless.

“Jareth, the Goblin King, ruler of the Underground.”

“When you aren’t stealing children away, or sweeping young women off their feet, who are you?” She was pressing her luck, but she needed to know the identity of the wizard who knew her so well and professed such forward intentions.

“A hopeless romantic who hopes to woo you to his side before the night is over.”

Hermione fell silent, letting her partner guide her through the remainder of the dance. He was a confident dancer and although he held her too close, she didn’t feel trapped.

In fact, she felt the opposite; she wanted to be held tighter.

“Would you give me a clue to the identity of my suitor?”

“As you wish.” He said and moved them to the edge of the dance floor. She waited in vain, for he didn’t speak again.

As the music ended their second dance, he tightened his embrace for a fleeting moment only to release her and lead her off the dance floor and back into the crowd. He kept a firm hold of her right hand, brushing her with his thumb.

“Where are we going? Are you Westley now instead of Jareth?” she was growing annoyed with his familiarity and confusing half quotes and riddles. If he wasn’t Ron or Harry he must know her very well to be able to quote two separate films and obfuscate his identity.

With a jerk of his chin, he directed her gaze to the strange man with the boxed puppet who was using it to flirt with a pair of costumed ladies.

“You are a puppeteer as well?” she asked looking at the man who would be her king.

He barked out a laugh, “No, my Sarah, and I’ve had my fill of puppet masters and strings.”

“So Jareth. What do I know of you so far? You are a wizard who has had enough of puppets, who dances well, and knows my history well enough to quote two of my favourite films. Who are you?”

“A humble Prince in disguise who would claim the kiss you promised the doll in that box to give me.”

Hermione stopped and looked at the glamoured man beside her. “No…” The seed of understanding sprouted and yet she still mistrusted it.

“What is it Sarah?”

“You aren’t him. He would never do this.” Hermione shook her head. “He’d move the stars for someone else, not me. This isn’t real.”

“I can be cruel Sarah, but I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about this, not ever.” He shook his head, “I’ve watched you grow and become the wonderful person you are. I stayed away because I knew who and what I was, and thought you deserved better.” His voice was so soft and familiar now, she recognised it fully.

“When better never showed up, I wondered if I could be more than a marionette; if I could step up into my legacy and be something more.” He moved in front of her again and tilted her chin up to look into his mismatched eyes. He took the mask off her face and dropped it to the ground.

“I’ve believed in you for a long time, Hermione,” he whispered. “I hope that you could believe in me as well.”

Hermione gasped in astonishment, staring up into the face of a fading glamour. Blonde hair fell and became dark, settling in a curtain, brushing the shoulders of the brilliantly blue jacket. She watched as the be-spelled mismatched eyes melted into deep black ones.

Hermione forgot how to breathe, as Jareth the Goblin King was none other than Severus Snape, the Half-Blood Prince.

He whispered, “Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your...” she interrupted him, stopping his speech with her finger.

With a smile she said, “You had me at Just.”

Before he leaned forward to kiss her he repeated “As you Wish.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is prompted by DaronwyK and encouraged by LunaP999 and FawkesyLady from the Hearts and Cauldrons Discord Server.
> 
> I need to thank FawkesyLady for her fantastic hand in being my beta, helping me turn my brain dump into this.  
> Though I did do some editing after her so any mistakes are fully mine.


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